


Happy Anniversary

by lovethecoat51



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2627009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethecoat51/pseuds/lovethecoat51
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Jack celebrates the anniversary of the worst day of his life (so far)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Anniversary

It’s a cold, rainy night in Cardiff – of course, when isn’t it cold and rainy here? The city's lonely tonight; the silence is almost deafening. Everyone's safe and warm inside, probably crowded around their tvs or computers. Ah, the glow of technology. No one's stupid enough to go out in this weather. No one but me, because I'm a sucker for a rooftop on a windy, wet night. Throw in that bottle of hypervodka in my pocket and it's a recipe for disaster. Might just be what I'm looking for, actually. It's better than facing what today is.

Today is January 10th. It hasn't even technically happened yet, but it still goes down in history as the single worst day of my life. The day of the Boeshane Peninsula invasion. And here I am again, remembering it like it was yesterday.

 

_Running down to the beach to play baseball with the rest of the kids in the settlement. Mum telling us to be careful and play nice and make sure we take our goggles, there's supposed to be a sand storm later. Dad saying he'll be down there in half an hour, once he finishes fixing the sink. Divide into teams - Lauren and I are the team captains. Gray's on my team, of course - who would I pick before my own brother? Dad shows up just after we start playing - coaching and cheering from the sidelines, just like he always does._

 

Hadn't thought about it in over 150 years, before I even knew the Doctor. I could breeze through life, not worry about a sudden, deep depression on the tenth day of the year. I could walk past families sitting down for dinner and not feel a pang of jealousy. I could function like a normal human being. Then he came back into my life.

  

_"Oh God. Just run..."_

_"Oh, please, that is the oldest trick in the book."_

_"Jack?"_

_"Gray?"_

_"I never stopped believing. Always knew we'd find each other again."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"Sorry's not good enough."_

 

I didn't even have a chance to celebrate. Just one embrace, then a knife to the gut.

 

_"I looked for you. I searched for you for years. You were my first thought every day."_

_"What were you expecting? Hmm? A loving reunion? Absolution? Me to say 'it's okay, brother, I forgive you'?"_

 

This year was the worst I've had in a long time, too. I could feel it creeping up on me. I'd hear a dog howl at night and suddenly be frozen with fear. Reports of a child missing from a playground would make me work harder than ever to find them. The mere sight of a baseball would hit me like a brick wall. No one noticed; no one knew they even should. Nope, it's just another random fact about me that's too hidden away for any amount of alcohol and prodding to shake free. I already made the mistake of telling one person about it; that's never gonna happen again. Just focus on something else and it'll go away.

 

_Someone screams; there's chaos everywhere. We all know exactly what's happening, it's happened countless times before. **They**  were coming. Sure, they'd flown over us before, but it'd always been just that - fly overs. Never a landing party. Today was different, though. I could see it in Dad's face. "Take Gray," Dad says. "Keep him safe. I gotta go get your mother. RUN!"_

 

Now, of course, I can't think of anything but that, can't find something else to focus on. I can't move again from the weight of all the memories. And they're not just of the invasion now. Oh no, they're also of the day I finally got my baby brother back.

 

_"Those creatures, they live to torture. They kept us just on the verge of life. I'd lie there, hemmed in by corpses, praying to become one. Because you let go of my hand. Remember?"_

_"If I could swap with you, I would."_

 

I never did forget, you know. Not really. Just somehow...muffled it. Kept it from getting too vivid. The less I thought about it, the less I let myself even start down that little trip to memory lane, the easier it got. Sure, a few nightmares here and there, but who doesn't have a rough night?

 

_Never felt a fear so intense in my whole life. The stories we heard about them...kids from Boeshane never had nightmares about imaginary boogeymen. No, the creatures that made us scream and run into our parents' room in the middle of the night crying were **real**. I hide under a tree on the bank. Not exactly the best hiding spot, but somehow, they missed me. But oh, did I hear them. The most primal, empty howl you can imagine...only worse. Like I said, kids from Boeshane don't have nightmares about made-up fantasy mumbo jumbo. Their nightmares are real._

 

You can never just forget something like that.

 

_"Remember it again. I believed you'd come. But you never did. How long before you gave up? Hmm? Months? Years? Decades?"_

_"What do you want from me?"_

_"I want you to suffer. I want your life. This is Cardiff. 27 AD. The city will be built here over the next 2,000 years. Your grave will be the city’s foundations. Your blessing of life becomes a curse. Each time you revive with a throatful of earth, each time it chokes you afresh and you thrash on the edge of death, you think of me._ "

  

It's never gonna get better, either. A million years from now, when Boeshane isn't remembered anymore, not even in the most antique holobooks out there, I'll still be here, I'll still be reliving it every single year. On this day.

 

_As soon as I hear the all clear sound, I'm running home as fast as my legs can carry me. I need to find my brother, make sure he's okay. I scream for him while I'm running, trying to ignore the corpses that line my path home. He isn't one of them, he **can't**  be. When I get home, Dad's laying on the ground. Only...he's not moving. And there's blood on his shirt. But he can't be dead, he's my Dad. He wouldn't just- he can't! He's not dead! Then Mum comes out; she can't believe it either. Because he's **not dead**. My Dad **doesn't die** , not like that. Mum's asking about Gray now, but the words stick in my throat; I can't tell her that I lost him. He was my responsibility, I was supposed to look out for him, keep him safe. I start calling for him again, because my family isn't going to be ripped apart, not today, not **ever**! My Dad isn't dead and my brother isn't lost! They can't be, they can't..._

 

And they just keep playing over and over and over again in my head. I can't escape it, no matter how hard I try. Nothing quiets it. No drunken stupor, no high, no drowning myself in others' company. Nothing. Just me and my past sins, coming back to haunt me. 

 

_"I forgive you."_

_"How did you survive?"_

_"I forgive you, Gray."_

_"Don't you walk away from me. Don't you walk away from me! STOP!"_

_"I've forgiven you! I give you absolution! Now do the same for me!"_

_"I prayed for death! Those creatures, the things they did to us. Because of you. The favorite son, the one who lived, who will always live. The only strength I have is my hatred for you."_

_"I didn't know. I didn't realize until it was too late."_

_"I begrudge you everything. I wanna rip it all from you, to leave you screaming in the dark. I will never absolve you. All of it, it's your fault."_

 

"Salgardet mobarak*," I say, raising my drink high. Without another thought, I down the shot. I pull my arm back and fling the shot glass as far as I can, just the way Dad taught me. Time to get off this roof and back to the real world. Tomorrow's another day.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *traditional Boeshane toast, meaning "happy anniversary"


End file.
